


Protector of the Lies

by LouPF



Category: Smallfoot (2018)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy - Freeform, Not Happy, Uhm, i guess??, i uh guess this can be filed under, migo is the stonekeeper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: "Protect the lie - and you protect the village."And Migo does.





	Protector of the Lies

The crowd stands before him, vast and endless, curiosity open and raw on their faces. He draws a deep breath, feels the tension in the air, and says, “It’s not a Smallfoot. Yeah, I was wrong, I got confused, and the Stonekeeper figured it out. It’s actually a type of yak.”

In his arms the – his – _the_ smallfoot heaves after breath, and he glances down at him, for a moment worried –

The Stonekeeper’s hand is heavy on Migo’s shoulder, and he dutifully looks away.

*

That night he lies in his bed. He’s awake for hours, staring up into the darkness of the roof. He wonders if he did the right thing – if he should’ve done something different, or said something else, or apologized more profusely to the S.E.S. He wonders how long the – his – _the_ smallfoot is going to live, how horrible his death will be – if he was loved, or cherished, or if he will be missed.

The next morning he tells his dad that his most important job is to ring the gong. “It’s what’s best,” he says, so quietly that he can barely hear himself.

Neither mention the fact that they no longer have any helmets. Neither mention the fact that they both know the truth.

*

Meechee goes missing the next day.

The Stonekeeper pulls Migo into the manor, dragging him up the stairs and into her room before pointing at the drawing his – _the_ smallfoot left there. “What,” he says, the word trembling beneath the weight of his anger, “does this mean?”

And horror wells over him, for there, on the wall, is a clear image of a yeti carrying a smallfoot down from the mountain.

Migo explains.

“ – no,” Stonekeeper whispers, brushing his fingers against the crude drawing. “Not her too…”

“I’ll go after her,” Migo says, already making for the door. Meechee – good, kind-hearted, precious Meechee – he _has_ to go after her, he was the one who started this mess, after all –

“No!” Stonekeeper cries, turning so fast that it’s a wonder the Stones of his robe don’t shatter. “You _cannot go,_ it is far too dangerous!”

And for a moment Migo considers complaining, to go anyway – but he meets the Stonekeeper’s gaze, sees the silent threat in it, and ducks his head.

*

When it’s announced that Meechee has gone missing, Gwangi offers to go looking for her.

He never comes back.

*

The days go by. Everything’s gone back to normal – Migo helps his dad ring the gong, the village is filled with joy and song, and if Migo has troubles sleeping at night, then he doesn’t tell anyone about that.

…but sometimes when they’re near each other the Stonekeeper gives Migo contemplating looks. Migo worries for what it might mean – is he going the same way as the smallfoot? As Meechee, as Gwangi? – but he pushes it down and away, focusing instead to survive from day to day.

And then, precisely two weeks after Meechee disappeared, the Stonekeeper requests Migo’s presence.

He’s brought before the image again – the one of the yeti carved into stone, chained and hurt and restrained. The Stonekeeper repeats what he’d told him weeks ago – the same cold, harsh truth of what they’d done – of who they’d been.

It hurts even more than it did the first time, for now he knows that no matter what he does he will have to live with the consequences of his choices – no matter what he does or thinks he _must_ act like this is the truth.

The Stonekeeper, after finishing his tale for the second time, turns solemn eyes on Migo. “Do you understand, Migo?”

“I – yes. I do.”

“Do you accept this, Migo?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to abide by these rules and laws, protecting the lie as though it were your own flesh and blood?”

“I do.”

He doesn’t understand before later what it means; what he’s said.

What he’s done.

And it takes him even longer to understand that there’s no way back.

*

The Stonekeeper announces, before the whole village and without even a word of warning, that Migo is to be the next Keeper. The crowd is one united cheer when the necklace holding a single blank slate is hung around Migo’s neck, and he knows that they only cheer because the Stones tell them to.

In the crowd is his dad, shocked and hurt and afraid, and Migo knows that he’s disappointed him. It’s always been the two of them, through thick and thin – his dad has never had to consider taking on an apprentice. It’s always seemed so obvious that Migo would take over after him. But now he’s approaching the final years of his life – he’ll be lucky if he finds a successor that will execute the job properly.

Migo’s belongings, as few as they are, are gathered by a few well-meaning villagers. Migo follows them around, intending to help but being ushered away whenever he tries. He goes to fetch a picture of his mom, but is stopped half-way by his dad.

Neither of them speak. The betrayal in his eyes communicates enough,

*

The Stonekeeper gestures for the villagers to carry his things into an empty room, and it’s not before they’ve left that Migo realizes it’s Meechee’s.

*

Migo spends hours a day reading the Stones. He knows most of them by heart, but he must know them _all_. Though, most importantly, he must know why they exist. There’s a story behind each and every one of them, and he _must_ learn them.

The Stonekeeper says that he will know to recognize when a situation calls for a Stone to be made if he knows them all. All Migo hears is that he has to learn when he must leave his heart bleeding and beating in a sealed away box, spreading lies to protect the truth.

Nonetheless. He sits for every single story. Listening. Learning.

Hurting.

*

He’s taught how to handle social situations, what different situations call for, what to say and how to say it. The details behind rituals and rites, the things he absolutely has to do, the things he should do, and the things he can do if he so wishes.

And with every week that passes it gets harder and harder to smile. He passes by the villagers every day when he buys food, and they bend their necks to him, small whispers of _Keeper_ on their lips, and it _tugs_ and _tears_ , his soul screaming in agony –

He returns their bent necks, muttering _greetings_ , and it’s because he must, and not because he wants to.

Sometimes he sees his dad, scrambling through the crowds with a frown on his brow. At times he seems to be searching for something. At times it seems like something is searching for him. He never looks at Migo, even when he must be both blind and deaf not to notice his presence.

Migo supposes it hurts to look at him. It certainly hurts to look at himself.

*  
Most of the time he sleeps soundly at night, but sometimes he lies staring out at the dark sky spotted with glowing seeds of light. The past howls within him, regret and remorse and repulse filling up his chest like melting ice. He’s drowning in it, in himself, in his own tears that trickle through his fur and onto the stone he sleeps on.

And sometimes, when he lies there and wishes for better times, the echo of a shadow rushes through the room – the memory of Meechee, sometimes yelling at him, sometimes begging for answers, sometimes crying softly. Those moment are not as bad, however, as the times when she just stands by the window. Bathed in the moonlight and with a sorrowful, disappointed expression on her face.

*

The days become weeks and the weeks become months, painful moment after painful moment. It becomes a struggle to keep a smile on his face. To still see the good things in life. And yet, although his world becomes darker and darker with each second that passes by, the lives of those who were once his friends continue on. As bright as ever.

By the time he fills 145 he knows all there is to know. The Stones and how to care for them. Their stories, the story of their rules, every single rite and phrase and song known to yeti-kind.

“I am old,” the Stonekeeper tells him, twenty years after it all began. “I will not live for much longer.”

Migo bows his head; he knows it’s true. It’s unfortunate, but only because the Stonekeeper’s death will seal his own fate.

Once again, they stand before the engraved stone. Migo is familiar with it by now – he knows its every curve, its every edge and crack and perfection. It’s hurt less and less every time he’s come here – familiarity is trust – but now the old pain flares up again, woken by memories.

“Migo, Keeper to be,” the Stonekeeper says, turning to face Migo full-on. “Do you still understand, accept, and swear to protect like you did all those years ago?”

Migo closes his eyes, pain and dull horror coursing through him. “I do,” he says, because he has no other choice.

“Very well.”

And the Stonekeeper’s staff switches hands for the first time in two centuries.

*

The Stonekeeper dies less than a week later.

Migo puts on the robe. Slowly, tears streaming down his cheeks, stone after stone, lie after wretched lie.

And then he stands before the village, sorrow bleeding into his voice as he speaks of the Stonekeeper’s death.

His body is Iced, and he’s carried by five yetis into the Cave of the Keepers, where he’s placed beside beautiful and intricate ice carvings.

Migo closes the door without looking back.

*

From that day on his name is erased; he is no longer _Migo_ , only the Stonekeeper – keeper of the Stones. Protector of the Lies.

*

He rules throughout the years, keeping a firm grip on every single thing that happens inside – and outside – of the village. Minor things come and go – some yetis die, some get married, some are born. Some fight, some worry, some come to ask him for help.

Ultimately, none of it matters. As long as the Stones are respected for yet another day he has fulfilled his purpose and can sleep without having to worry about that day’s happenings.

Thing are fine for quite a long time –

until one day, Cyn – precious little Cyn, who always did stand out among her peers – does what she never should have done.

She asks one of the most dangerous questions she could possible ask.

And he takes her into the manor, down the stairs and before the carving, explaining calmly why they never, ever ask questions.

She cries in his arms for a long time, asking again and again and again if it’s really true, if there really is nothing they can do.

“It’s what I was told, and what the Keeper before me was told, and the one before them,” Migo says quietly. He wishes it was different, but he doesn’t tell her that. She cannot know he doubts the need for Lies when she will have to carry the Liar’s staff herself, one day.

And the guilt, the shame – the remorse and regret – flares up once more. For he knows, so incredibly well, that no matter how many Stones are put onto that robe… it will _always_ be heavier on the heart than on the back.


End file.
